Harry Potter and the End Of Times
by lemony muffins
Summary: Nobody could have guessed what would happen next... Contains Dramoine!
1. Chapter 1

"Let's have a picnic," suggested Harry brightly one summer's afternoon. He, Ron and Hermoine were sitting in a favourite musty corner of Hogwart's vast library.

Ron looked sceptical. "But we'd have to make sandwiches, and..." he hesitated, then weakly finished "...jam?"

"No, stupid, I mean a magic picnic of course," snapped Harry.

"I don't think you should be using magic to make a picnic, Harry," warned Hermoine without looking up from the immense tome she was perusing.

"Alright, well don't come then," shot back Harry. He rose and strode out of the library. Ron and Hermoine exchanged a despairing look, then followed his receding form up to his room.

Harry reached under the bed and pulled out an empty wicker basket that had contained Ron's last food shipment from home (he'd won it in a bet). He set it on the bed, drawing out his wand as the others burst in, Ron breathing hard from the exertion of their journey.

"Harry," began Hermoine, "I really don't think you-"

"Oh shut up, Hermoine. _Delicious Picnicus_!" With these words he flourished his wand in the general direction of the basket.

Nothing happened.

"I'm not sure Delicious Picnicus is a spell, Harry," reproached Hermoine. "You should really read some more books."

"Books, shmooks," said Harry. "I must have just waved the wand wrong." He began to lift the basket, but stopped when he felt its weight. "Hullo," he exclaimed, "I think it worked!"

He opened the basket, and sure enough it was filled with delicious looking sandwiches and cakes.

"Wow, nice one Harry," said Ron, "that lot looks smashing!"

Harry grabbed the blanket from the bed and turned to Hermoine with a self-satisfied grin. "Looks like _you're _the one who should be reading more books, Hermoine. Now me and Ron are going for a picnic, and we don't want you to come."

Ron blushed, and began to object. "I don't mind -"

"Shut up, Ron. Grab the basket and lets go."


	2. Chapter 2

Ten minutes later Harry was striding towards the edge of the school grounds, Ron struggling to keep up.

"Can't we just stop here?" panted the latter, bent almost double under the weight of the picnic basket.

"Not yet, Ron. We're going to have a picnic in the Forbidden Forest!"

Ron stopped dead, ahast. "No way, Harry. Its forbidden! And its full of wierd creatures that eat people."

"Whatever, Ron," shrugged Harry. "Don't be such a lamo. If we see any monsters we'll just zap them with our wands!" He gave a sly grin. "Unless, of course, you don't want any cake..."

Ron did want cake, and so they were soon traipsing through the Forbidden Forest, which was dark and gloomy even in the middle of the day. A wind sprung up to whisper eerily in the trees, and creatures writhed and wriggled on the edge of hearing but just out of sight.

"Here's good," announced Harry at last, throwing the blanket down at a spot which, to Ron, looked just as dark and terrifying as any other they had passed. "Now let's eat some cake!"

In the darkness of the forest the cakes and pastries glowed spookily. "They look a bit funny," said Ron doubtfully.

"Yeah," said Harry, "well that's because they're magic cakes. They're not going to look like normal cakes, are they? Or you wouldn't know which ones were magic."

Ron felt there was probably a flaw in Harry's logic, but he couldn't quite find it and a grumbling stomach mixed with recollections of previous arguments with the boy wonder told him it would be easier to just eat. He selected a large pink-iced donut, Harry took an apple lattice, and they both munched the sugary snacks contentedly.

No sooner had they brushed the crumbs from their dishevelled uniforms than their hunger returned with a vengeance, and each reached for another treat; a slice of Victoria sponge cake and a battenberg.

"These are bloody good, Harry. Only trouble is, as soon as I've finished one I want another."

Harry nodded, unable to reply due to a slice of treacle tart blocking his mouth. They continued to eat until the cakes were finally gone.

Ron let out a mighty burp, and suddenly felt very full indeed. "I don't feel so good, Harry..."


	3. Chapter 3

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Hermoine was hurrying to Potions, for which she was slightly late having got a bit lost in the library. Snape gave her a withering look as she entered breathlessly and went to the nearest empty desk.

"Very kind of you to join us, Miss Granger," slithered Snape. "And where, pray ask, are your grotty little friends?"

"If you mean Harry and Ron, I'm quite sure I don't know," replied Hermoine, meeting the gaunt teacher's harsh gaze levelly. "I am not their keeper."

"Whatever," muttered Snape, sweeping around and going to his desk. "Now, on with the learning," he announced before launching into a long list of combustive potions and methods of handling them with care. Despite her dislike of the teacher, Hermoine never missed an opportunity to expand her already impressive knowledge and began to take careful notes.

Across the classroom, paying less attention to Snape's dictation, sat Draco Malfoy. He was staring at Hermoine with his trademark scowl etched across his smooth young face. _Filthy Mudblood, _he thought. _Always studying and learning stuff, but she'll never wield the power of a true wizard. _The object of his inward abuse looked up for a moment and happened to catch his glance, and he imediately looked down, surprised by his own sudden embarrasment. _She is pretty cute, though..._

Hermoine, too, looked down. Why was that creep always staring at her? She risked another glance, but he had returned to his work. She nudged Parvati Patil, and whispered, "Psst! Is Malfoy blushing?"

Parvati peered closely at the vampire-haired lad, then whispered back. "He is, too." She whispered it to Lavender Brown, who was rubbish at keeping things quiet.

"Hey look everyone, Draco's blushing!" she cried out.

Everyone pointed at Draco and laughed, which just made him blush deeper. "I am _not_," he snarled. "Malfoys don't blush."

"Pipe down, you little scragends," shivered Snape. "Get on with your work. Brown, go and stand outside."

"But Sir," objected Lavender.

"Shut up!" screeched Snape. "A year's detention, and a thousand points from Griffindor!" He drew out his wand, and students around Lavender scattered fretfully. "_Obliviamo_!" he cried impressively, and Lavender disappeared with a loud thunderclap. "Right," snapped Snape, "anyone else?" He looked around murderously, pretending not to notice his favourite student Malfoy flipping the bird at Hermoine and Parvati. "Good. Then on with the-"

But just then the bell rang, and everyone ran away.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you hear that?" whispered Ron, his eyes large with fright.

"I'm not sure. I think so," said Harry, "I probably would have, knowing me." The sounds of the forest had been growing steadily more intense over the last few minutes, or week, or however long it had been.

"Also, your face is a bit purple."

"Shut up, Ron!" snapped Harry, a little worried his teeth would fall out as he did so. "You are the purple one!"

"Hmm..." said Ron. "I think we should move on."

"I vote this way!" shouted Harry, and ran off into the dark at what seemed to Ron an astonishing pace. "I'm off to find mummy and daddy!" he squealed as he receded into the shadows.

Ron stood to follow, but his feet seemed to have turned to treacle and his movements were incredibly sluggish. "Wait for me, wizard boy!" he cried, but Harry was gone.

Then, he was back! "Come on Ron, I saw a shop just over there. My scar hurts."

"Okay," said Ron. "But I don't think... that is, I didn't... I mean, is this all real?"

Harry threw back his head and laughed, a short, hollow sound that rapped against the surrounding trees as if they were doors to other worlds. "Don't you see, Ron? Its whatever we want it to be! It was inside our hearts all along! It was all a dream!"

"What was?" asked Ron, confused.

"_That's _what you're here to find out," said Harry triumphantly. "I want an answer on my desk by Monday."

Ron considered this, as the forest behind Harry exploded into a monochrome rainbow. "Do you... have a desk?"

"Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron..." said Harry sadly. "Poor, stupid Ron-Ron. Don't you see yet? This _forest_ is my desk. The trees are paperweights, the grass..." he searched his mind, "quill-tips? Yes, quill-tips. To conclude, the forest is me, and I am the forest, and the forest is a desk."

"I think I understand," said Ron, who didn't.

And off they went, into that interminable night...


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Hermoine went down to breakfast in the Great Hall, but could barely eat her Fizz Flakes for worry. Harry and Ron still hadn't returned, and though they would get in trouble if they were just wagging off she simply _had_ to tell a teacher.

She finished her Fizz Flakes anyway, and then bobbed off to Hagrid's little house to snitch on her pals. The giantish caretaker beamed with joy as she bounced through the door.

"Why, Hermoine!" he boomed in his simple, resonant tones. "How nice to see you! I was just teaching Norbert to tell the-"

"Harry and Ron have gone missing!" blurted out Hermoine, unable to control herself any longer.

"-time, he knows where the big hand is but he can't see the little one, you see? And you shouldn't just barge in like that, Hermoine, what if I'd had a lady friend over-" he broke off and did a double take. "Harry and Ron have gone WHAAA?"

"Yes, they probably went into the Forbidden Forest, they usually do. They had some magic cakes."

Hagrid pondered this a moment. "Ah, well that's a different story. Many a time, in my youth, I'd head into the woods with a pal and some, ahem," here he stooped and nudged Hermoine conspirationally, "_magic_ cakes."

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about," said Hermoine coldly.

"Well, its been nice chatting," said Hagrid, straightening up. "See you around, Hermoine!"

Hermoine stomped out of the cottage in a huff, muttering darkly to herself. And this is what she muttered : "Well, if Hagrid won't help me, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands!"


	6. Chapter 6

In the Forbidden Forest, things were starting to get messy. Harry was rocking back and forth with his knees tucked up to his chest, and Ron was talking to a tree.

"Hello, little one," said the tree. "What a lot of rust on your head."

"That's not rust," objected Ron, who had a strong sense of deja vu. "It's my hair."

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry. "What's all this whispering?"

Ron listened carefully. "I can hear something…"

"I think it's the wind, Harry," said the tree.

"Oh really?" said Harry. "Could the wind do this?" He sprang to his feet, jumping about six inches from the ground and letting out an exultory whoop.

The tree said nothing.

"That's what I thought," smirked Harry. "Now go away before I turn you into a bush."

The tree remained silent.

"You shouldn't be so rude, Harry," reproached Ron as they wandered deeper into the forest. "It could have been a magic tree."

"Do you really think a _magic _tree would waste its time talking to boring old Ron Weaselface?" laughed Harry. "That's why I like you, Ron. You're stupid and boring."

They walked in silence for a while, both completely lost but strangely unconcerned. Strange howls filled the night, and shadows fell in entirely the wrong directions. Presently they came to a clearing, and what they saw there made them both stop in surprise, for it was more real than anything else they'd seen since eating the cakes.

In the centre of the clearing, apparently unattached to anything, stood a wooden door. It was slightly ajar. And through the gap, they could see _a starry sky!_


	7. Chapter 7

Draco, Crabbe and Doyle were sitting at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, soaking up the last rays of the dying afternoon sun passing around a big bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"They all taste the same," complained Goyle.

"Yeah, purple," said Crabbe. "And its 'orrible."

"We should have got skittles instead, they're about half the price," sneered Draco sadly. "Oh well."

"Hey look boss, its that mudblood girl we all hate so much," said Goyle, pointing across the field in the direction of Hagrid's house.

Draco looked, and sure enough there she was. The rainbow he could have tasted had he bought skittles couldn't have compared to the one that now shone through the dense black cloud of his heart to warm the icy pastures of his soul. Oh! Hermoine!

To the trio's surprise, she ran straight up to them with her silly, head-bobby run ("she runs like one of Jim Henson's Muppets," Malfoy had once cruelly remarked to his yobbish pals) and stood before them, panting.

"What do you want, mudblood?" asked Goyle. "Is it some pure wizarding blood? Because you haven't got any!"

"Hur, hur," said Crabbe.

"Leave the joking to me, chaps," sneered Draco angrily. "What do you want, mudblood Hermoine?"

Hermoine drew breath to speak, then hesitated. Had Draco just used her name? The sun was in her eyes, but he didn't seem to look quite as mean as usual. She shook the thought from her mind – there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Harry and Ron have gone missing, don't you know," said Hermoine, "and no-one will help me find them. I want to go and look in the Forbidden Forest, but I'm scared because I'm a girl."

Draco's heart leapt at the idea of wandering off into the forest with Hermoine, but he couldn't admit it, not in front of Crabbe and Goyle. "And why would _we _want to help a mudblood like the likes of you?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" wailed Hermoine, and began to cry.

"All right, all right," said Draco. "Let's go then. You two can hang around here, keep a lookout for... for... well you know, for anything worthy of note. Come on, mudblood. And," he added for Crabbe and Goyle's benefit, "don't touch me or anything. I don't want mudblood on me."

"No fear!" said Hermoine as they walked towards the Forbidden Forest.

Crabbe and Goyle sat for a moment in stunned silence.

"Did the boss just go off with a filthy _mudblood_?" asked Crabbe.

"Feh," shrugged Goyle.


End file.
